


3am

by niteskybucky



Category: 9-1-1 (TV)
Genre: 3x16 except buck doesn't meet Red, Angst, Canon Divergence, Cardiopulmonary Resuscitation, Evan "Buck" Buckley Needs A Hug, Gen, Hurt Evan "Buck" Buckley, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, M/M, Not Beta Read, Self-Esteem Issues, Substance Abuse, Whump
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-13
Updated: 2020-06-13
Packaged: 2021-03-04 02:26:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,334
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24706051
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/niteskybucky/pseuds/niteskybucky
Summary: He drifted into unconsciousness longingly, craving the darkness that welcomed him behind his eyelids. Inside Buck’s apartment, his body was sprawled out on the floor, his cellphone and empty bottles as his only company. When his breathing begins to slow and his heart struggles to beat normally, his company remains the same.On the other end of the line, Eddie finally picks up the phone.
Relationships: Evan "Buck" Buckley & Eddie Diaz (9-1-1 TV), Evan "Buck" Buckley/Eddie Diaz, Evan "Buck" Buckley/Eddie Diaz (9-1-1 TV)
Comments: 11
Kudos: 418
Collections: 9-1-1 Tales





	3am

**Author's Note:**

> inspired by the song 3am by halsey.

He always ended up alone.

It seemed like everyone in the firehouse had someone to go home to except for Buck, and it was true. Bobby had Athena. Hen had Karen. Eddie had Christopher. Chim had Maddie. Of course, Buck had Maddie too, and he knew that. Even so, he knew deep down that his bond with Maddie didn’t compare to the relationships everyone else had.

Buck one-point-oh was in the past, and he was a changed man now. Unfortunately for Buck, it seemed that some things never changed. Despite all of his growth and maturity in the last years, he was still grappling with the fact that people always left him. They abandoned him as if he wasn’t enough to stick around for. It began with his parents, and then eventually Maddie, then he started dating seriously, only for his futile relationship attempts to end with him alone, too.

It wasn’t their fault, it wasn’t anyone’s fault but his own. From his own perspective, he was reckless, he was emotionally vulnerable, he wasn’t worth much of anything. Which made sense, because nobody knew how to deal with him, and nobody cared enough to stay.

Buck was fine, really. He was dealing with it. And if his coping mechanism was drinking until he couldn’t remember how to feel, then what was the harm in that? The only person he was hurting was himself, and it’s not like he mattered much, anyway.

That’s how he ended up at the bar, drowning his thoughts out with alcohol. Buck looked down at his wrist to check the time, only to realize he couldn’t make out what the watch displayed through his blurred vision. He also couldn’t remember what time he left his apartment.

_I’m self-medicating,_ he tells himself. As if he hasn’t been doing this exact same routine for the past few months. The only difference was that he was outside the comfort of his own home, but he was still drinking away his pain as usual. It didn’t use to be like this, he used to do well on his own. After leaving his old life in Pennsylvania, he actually preferred being on his own after figuring out how to be independent and self-sufficient. Then, a couple of traumatic experiences and life-altering events later, he started to feel the familiar creep of loneliness crawling out of the depths of his mind. His apartment became an unwanted destination, every opportunity he had to escape his own company, he took advantage of. Nothing ever turned out well when he spent too much time in his own mind.

That’s the sad part, isn’t it? When he’s at work, when he’s helping people, he knows that he is making a difference. Buck knows that his job is important and that it is one of the most meaningful commitments he has ever made, to live his life in service of others.

Now, though, he’s just not sure what he’s worth outside of the job. If he thinks about it long enough, being a firefighter is the main reason why he’s staying alive. Firefighting gives him a sense of purpose and meaning, which is no doubt why he’s so good at his job, why he is always the one to volunteer for the risky rescues, why he has such little self-preservation. That, and the fact that he has no one waiting for him at home, anyway. In his mind, Buck’s life is always the last priority.

As he downs another shot, unsure of when it materialized in front of him and losing track of what drinks he’s ordered, he opts for checking the time on his phone. Making the executive decision to go home, he orders a cab and settles into a standing position in the crowded bar.

People stare at Buck, at his physique, their body language obviously waiting to find the right moment to make a move. Buck is wary of the attention he gets, no longer the playboy he used to be. The desire to revert back to his old habits is nonexistent; he knows that meaningless sex causes more problems than it solves.

Stumbling out of the bar, head spinning from the liquor, he settles in for the ride back to his place. Usually, he dreaded the ride back to his apartment after having drinks with the team and the rest of the firehouse. Now, he realized he was having one of _those_ days. One of those days where he feels so bad about himself and his life that he just wants to sit in his darkness, burying himself deeper in his own self-pity and self-hatred. He decided, then, that he would go home and drink until he passed out, until he was numb, and didn’t have to think about anything at all.

\----------

As 3am approached, Buck found himself sitting on his kitchen floor. Alone. The bottle in his left hand was a few drops away from being empty and coupled with the drinks he’d had at the bar, he could tell he was nearing a danger zone that even his body couldn’t handle.

Ignoring the blaring warning signs of his overconsumption, he mindlessly scrolled through his phone, looking for a distraction while allowing the drug to continue eating his feelings. Buck went through the numbers on his phone, recalling that everyone rejected his invitation to go out because they made plans with their loved ones, with their families.

At this point, he was torturing himself. It was the middle of the night and it was safe to assume that everyone he cared about was fast asleep by now. He still couldn’t help but wonder. _Would anyone even pick up?_ With every call that went to the dial tone, he took another swig out of the bottle.

Selfishly, he thought to himself, _what if I had an emergency? What if I was the one who needed saving?_ Some twisted part of his brain told him that the silence on the other end of the line served as an answer. With a heavy heart, he continued on with his less than effective coping process.

He lost track of time and was only aware of his surroundings because the sun started to bleed its light into the loft.

Buck didn’t mean to call Eddie. Or maybe he did. Somewhere in the back of his mind, in his delirious state of existence, he remembered that Christopher was having his first sleepover. Eddie was taking care of a bunch of kids sleeping at his house, he wasn’t responsible for Buck or his unhealthy drinking habits. Still, he stayed on the line. A few more tries and the call went straight to voicemail.

_Please leave a message at the dial tone…_

As if on cue, Buck’s vision darkened around the corners. What was going on? Why was he on the floor? He glanced at his phone, coherent enough to view Eddie’s contact name on the glowing screen. He was extremely disoriented and confused, trying to understand what was going on.

“Eddie? Oh, Eds. Wait—sorry for calling, I was just, I-I didn’t know what—,” he slurred clumsily.

Maybe it was the sunlight casting shadows all around him. Maybe it was parts of his medical training kicking in. Maybe it was his body telling him he was running out of time. Whatever the case, Buck spilled his emotions all over his message to Eddie.

For the most part, Buck’s speech was incoherent and borderline hysterical. Even so, the drunken man felt relieved to spill his guts about his crushing loneliness and the fake home he convinced himself he was a part of at the 118.

It didn’t take long for the liquor to catch up to his brain. Soon enough, his fingers brushed across the screen numbly, ending the voice message. He didn’t grasp that his body was slowly shutting down until breathing became a struggle, and he felt the telltale signs of losing consciousness. As he drifted further and further away from his body and mind, Buck’s last thoughts were that everyone was okay. Everyone had someone to go home to. It would all be okay.

He drifted into unconsciousness longingly, craving the darkness that welcomed him behind his eyelids. Inside Buck’s apartment, his body was sprawled out on the floor, his cellphone and empty bottles as his only company. When his breathing begins to slow and his heart struggles to beat normally, his company remains the same.

On the other end of the line, Eddie finally picks up the phone.

\----------

It was almost instinctive, the way Eddie reacted. After sending the kids home from Christopher’s sleepover, he drove his son to Abuela’s for the weekend. Before pulling out of the driveway to head back to his place, he checked his phone only to view multiple missed calls and a single voicemail from Buck. He played the voice message and instantly knew that Buck was in danger.

Eddie didn’t bother knocking on Buck’s door. Instead, he frantically shoved his spare key into the lock and barged in. He really, really wished the sight before him was not a reflection of his reality. Buck lay on the floor, surrounded by nothing empty bottles and his cellphone. More alarmingly, his best friend’s body was pale, unmoving, and his lips were turning blue.

Freezing for all of two seconds, Eddie dialled the all too familiar emergency number while dropping on his knees next to Buck’s body. Emergency services were on the way, and Eddie tried to block out the fear that they might arrive too late.

“Buck, Buck! Can you hear me!” Eddie all but screamed while shaking Buck to check for any indications of consciousness. Next, he fearfully but professionally put his head to Buck’s mouth to check for signs of abnormal breathing, or any breathing at all. There was only silence beneath the palm of his hand against Buck’s chest. His heart wasn’t beating and he wasn’t breathing and the realization that his best friend had slipped away, drunken and alone, tore open a wound so painful in Eddie he almost didn’t know what to do. Almost. He was still hyper-aware of the fact that his best friend was lifeless beneath his hands, and he needed to save him.

Jumping into action, Eddie laced his hands together and aligned himself with the middle of Buck’s chest. Rhythmically, he performed thirty chest compressions before tilting Buck’s head back, opening his airways, and delivering two bated breaths. The chest compressions were delivered hard and fast, almost panicked. After the first round, Eddie placed his ear against Buck’s chest, hoping, wishing, waiting to feel a heartbeat.

Buck remained stiff, cold, and eerily silent. The only movement from Buck’s body came at the expense of Eddie thrusting his hands frantically into his chest, causing his head to loll from side to side, his stomach and chest jerking with each motion. And so Eddie continued, repeating the movements like a mantra, and praying to whatever higher power was above just to get Buck to breathe.

“Come on, Buck, you can’t do this. Come back to me, dammit!” As time went on, his hands only slammed into Buck’s chest harder, with more ferocity. He would not forget the crushing sounds of his best friend’s ribs breaking, the quiet gasp of air each time Buck’s chest recoiled from the compressions. It was too intimate, forcing another person’s heart to pump, being the only reason blood circulates to vital organs, willing someone else’s lungs to take deep, oxygen-deprived breaths.

Tears began to escape from Eddie’s eyes, large droplets landing on the surface of Buck’s pale, motionless face. Exhausted from the act of CPR, of exerting all of his energy and prayers to get Buck’s heart to beat, he readjusted the unconscious male’s airways. With one hand on Buck’s forehead and the other placed on his chin, Eddie interlocked their lips, delivering deep breaths of air into his friend’s starved lungs. First breath, watch his chest rise and fall, second breath, look for his lungs expanding, accepting the lifeblood Eddie is forcing into his body.

Positioning himself over Buck’s sternum again, Eddie voiced aloud, “Please, Buck, just breathe. _Breathe!_ You can’t just leave us like this, we need you. _I_ need you,” he cried out, voice thick with emotion.

When Eddie started the next round of compressions, he was met with a choked gasp for air.

Confused blue eyes fluttered open, paired with a pained, harsh cough, and it was the most beautiful sight Eddie had ever seen.

Recovery positions be damned, Eddie wrapped his arms around his partner in an instant, hands frantically caressing Buck’s back and checking his pulse point. The medics arrived seconds later, entering through the door Eddie had left wide open. Buck, breathless and disoriented, clung to Eddie for dear life.

It would be a long time before they both recovered from this incident. Eddie’s dreams would consist of nightmares filled with different variations of losing Buck, one of the most significant people in his life. Buck’s recovery process would mean dealing with the demons in his own mind and coming to realize that he just might already have everything he needs in his life. He would realize that he needed to seek professional help, confiding in Bobby and the rest of the team, his family. One day, he would truly believe that he is not alone, and that he can have someone to come home to. Or rather, he might already have two lovely boys to come home to.

Their bodies remained intertwined, even as the paramedics set up the medical supplies, even as Eddie’s hands cradled Buck’s face, both men breathing fast. With shaking hands and an unwavering stare, Eddie makes a promise, “You are never alone, Buck. I’m never going to leave you behind. I got you, I’ve always got you,” Eddie says urgently.

Even though his mind and body feel like they’re in outer space, Buck begins to see the truth in Eddie’s words.

**Author's Note:**

> thank you for reading! this has been sitting in my drafts for too long, so i finally gathered the courage to post. comments and kudos are appreciated, take care of yourself <3


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